Homecoming
by thought hemorrhage
Summary: Piers is dead. Chris wants to move on but his heart just won't let him. As he reminisces the past, an unexpected visitor arrives much to his surprise.


**My description apparently contains a SPOILER so-**

Ever since I've finished Chris' campaign in Resident Evil 6, I've always wondered how Chris ever felt about Piers' death and what he was thinking about during the time when he was slicing that steak, so I decided to write in his point of view. Writing through his perspective is pretty interesting and challenging at the same time. I mean, he's a really emotional character which made it difficult for me to emphasize on his feelings and thoughts but... oh well, I hope you'll appreciate what I've written.

Oh! and let me just say, this story of mine is the ending of the campaign except that I edited some of its parts. Also, there was a time when I browsed through a couple of Chris and Piers pictures and happened to come across a beautiful artwork of **lanimalu**'s which inspired me to write this fanfic. I extend my gratitude to her for being such an amazing artist and my inspiration.

**_I don't own any of the Resident Evil characters. I wish I did._**

* * *

Losing Piers was the most excruciating memory I've ever had.

My name is Chris Redfield. I stand as the captain of the BSAA and a big brother to my men. For days now, I have been mourning for my fellow partner's death, second-in-command, Piers Nivans.  
He is – or used to – be the best sniper of the team. He had so much potential at a young age, and I could see the passion and loyalty in his eyes – to serve the BSAA until the end.

If only I had known. If only I had prevented the worst outcome to happen.  
If only I hadn't been blinded by vengeance.

Piers was right. I had been the one in the wrong. I shouldn't have chased down Ada Wong. I shouldn't have let the anger get to my head. I shouldn't have let myself be driven by my emotions.  
Piers' death could have been avoided if I had acted upon reason.  
Stupid, insensitive Chris.  
I'm such a bastard for dragging him into my mess.

The knife cut through the well-done steak I ordered which, from a long time ago, was recommended by my now-dead comrade. As I chewed the meat slowly, I tried to remember its flavor and identify the ingredients used. Soy sauce, pepper, butter... I wasn't even sure if I guessed right. I looked around to see normal people dining and drinking. Some of them were laughing at a joke someone just cracked while there were others who sat by themselves in silence, finding their inner peace of mind.

Like what I was attempting to do right now.

I heaved out a sigh. Some months ago, these people weren't just regular customers... they were all members of the BSAA. My soldiers. My men.  
Piers was one of them. In fact, he was the one who persuaded me to return to the team. He told me he had been searching for me, only to find out that I was drowning myself in drunken misery.  
He started explaining what had happened a year ago before I helped myself to immense liquor. His words triggered the most painful memories I wanted to forget.  
All of them came flooding back to me, and then he mentioned Finn's name.  
Finn Macauley. The rookie whom I vowed to protect.  
But he ended up being a victim of Ada's cruel games... he transformed into a B.O.W. with which the BSAA must eliminate.  
It was in that moment when I lost my consciousness. And maybe my sanity, even.

Through Piers' convincing words and the trust the team put in me, I rejoined them to fulfill my mission.  
To face the truth and take responsibility.

I was about to take a drink when a person dressed in a soldier attire came up to me.

"Captain, we've received new orders!"

Upon hearing the awfully familiar voice the mug in my hand slipped, spilling water all over the table. My breathing hitched and my heart was racing. I could hear it beat loudly in my ears, through my chest.

I wasn't sure if I had heard right. I considered that maybe I was just hallucinating, but I could feel his presence just inches away from where I sat. It gave me difficulty breathing evenly.  
When I finally told myself to stop hyperventilating, I glanced up at the person before me.

There, in flesh and blood, stood the man whom I thought had died days back. My eyes examined his right arm which was replaced with a mechanical one with a gun firmly in his grip. I dragged them back to his face and scanned the ghastly scar that ran down from his hairline to his jaw. Even with the obvious mark that covered half of his face, I could still recognize him and that expression of his: the look of determination and faith.

"...Piers? Is that you?" my voice trembled as I uttered the words I've wanted to say.  
As if to assure me that it wasn't a dream, he wore the most breathtaking smile and replied.  
"Yes, captain. I'm back," he spoke, and his voice reminded me of the hurt I felt the last time I saw him.

But now, it wasn't going to be the last.

"Piers!"

He was in my arms within milliseconds, my eyes overflowing with tears.  
Tears not of pain, but of happiness.

"Piers, oh God, you're... you're alive! I can't believe it!" I held his face in my hands and gazed at his brown eyes, relieved that everything was real. That _he _was real.

"Whoa, chill captain, yes, I am. I've missed you! How have you been?" He grinned widely and patted my cheek gently. It was such a nice sensation. I didn't want him to stop.

It was unfair how he was here with me, alive and breathing; happy and real. I didn't understand how he came to be here; how he was speaking to me as if nothing had happened... but I didn't care.  
I didn't care if everyone was staring at me. I didn't care about what they thought of me or the judgments they had towards me. I didn't care about anyone or anything.  
The only thing that mattered now was Piers.

I thought I was going to live my life in total depression. I thought I was going to be stuck in a nostalgic world forever. I thought I wouldn't be able to move on without him. I thought I wasn't going to see him again.  
But the Piers Nivans I've always known and wished to return was finally in front of me, never going to leave my side ever again.

The condition he was in twisted my insides, knotting them into a rope. I couldn't bear to look at his artificial arm or his damaged face. They would always be there to remind me of my faults and the situations wherein I was completely helpless.

But neither pain nor guilt can ruin the joy I contained within. Nothing can stop me from being this happy. Nothing can sever the perfect moment Piers and I both shared right now. Nothing _and _no one can separate us anymore.  
I mussed his hair while he laughed, reviving the lost smile I've locked away for the past weeks.

"Welcome back, soldier."  
Piers smiled and saluted with his normal arm.  
"Thank you, captain."

I wasn't going to be sad any longer.

* * *

It's too happy, I know. But I told you, I wrote it because a drawing inspired me to.


End file.
